


Post-It Notes and the Destruction of Property

by c00nt



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: And thus their love is thermodynamic equilibrium, F/F, Kara is a warm ray of sunshine personified, Lena is a frosty CEO, Please don't quote me on this, That's how science works right?, WHY HAS SUPERCORP TAKEN OVER MY ENTIRE SOUL
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 02:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9579335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c00nt/pseuds/c00nt
Summary: Somebody at L Corp keeps "accidentally" destroying company property and, by simple chance and happenstance, Lena gets into a back-and-forth with the vandal by way of anonymous post-it notes. And somehow, the stranger's penchant for excessive hearts and smilies is evenmoreirritating than the damages themselves.





	

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grad school? What grad school?  
> (Please enjoy)

It was never about the money. 

Please.

Lena had spent her early years in a mansion, her bedroom located in a whole separate wing from her parents’. There is _nowhere_ in the world that she couldn't get to in under twelve hours, thanks to her private jet on standby for any and all occasions. And no matter which five-star restaurant she would decide to grace with her presence for the evening, Lena was accustomed to ordering without sparing even a passing glance at the prices.

So, no.

This was definitely not about the money. 

Really, it was the principle of the thing. 

In the last five months alone, there were no fewer than twelve distinct work orders put in for repairs—all of which apparently having been “freak” accidents, whatever _that's_ supposed to mean—and  Lena was starting to suspect that they were all the result of a single individual. No doubt some overly defined gym-rat who felt the need to demonstrate their strength in even the most mundane of situations. Perhaps under the influence of some performance enhancing drugs. 

When she received her sixth consecutive incident report in the matter of one week, Lena was decidedly past her very last nerve. After an extra stiff martini to dull her righteous anger, the CEO called for a company-wide surprise drug test.

That night, Lena rested easy (and drunk), indulging in all of five hours of sleep, which was definitely a few more than she was used to. 

By the week’s end, Jess—her harried assistant—had for Lena a list of all 57 employees who had tested positive for one controlled substance or another.  Ignoring the 60% of her employees who had traces of pot in their systems, Lena noted quite a few instances of cocaine, some ecstasy and other party drugs amongst the interns, but only two cases of anabolic steroids. One was a janitor who worked weekends, the other an accountant whom Lena had never particularly taken to anyway. Neither of them really jumped out at her as a would-be vandal, but she promptly fired them both and compensated heavily with their severance. Then she replaced all the interns and placed the cocaine users on notice. 

It was a very busy day for Jess.

Predictably enough, Lena's course of actions did little to stop the flow of work orders and it wasn't long before she received notice of a hand-dryer smashed into two pieces at one of the women's restrooms. Upon reading the e-mail, Lena paused to take a deep breath and pour herself a nice tumbler of whiskey right up to the brim. 

But at least she was getting closer to identifying the real culprit. Because now, she knew it had to be a woman. 

Later in the month, Lena had an especially frustrating morning, having woken up just before dawn to 29 urgent e-mails, one of which had detailed the specifics of a torn-down ceiling fan. 

A  _ceiling_ fan.

A ceiling fan that had to be at least eight feet off the ground, so how on earth did a person reach high enough to tamper with it? Actually,  _why_ on earth would anyone even want to tamper with it?

After a brief (but serious) consideration of firing every last employee to start her conglomerate from scratch, Lena dropped her blackberry onto her nightstand and took an extra hot, extra long shower. There, she meditated on her plan of attack. Mother did approve always of her penchant for vengeance. 

Hair toweled up though still dripping onto her expensive carpeted floor, Lena sent out a mass-email that ventured more on the aggressive side of passive-aggressive. On the surface, her words seemed to imply that damaging company property was no less traitorous than a violent act of terrorism. Beneath the surface, her words somehow insinuated that sentiment much more explicitly.

Immediately, Lena received a series of hysterical text messages and e-mails from Jess, practically begging her to retract the statement lest they incur the wrath of HR or any potential litigative procedures.  Lena’s cold suggestion that even the tiniest breach of loyalty would be answered with a swift termination rendered the poor assistant apologetic and silent. 

When there were no work orders filed in the following two weeks, Lena relaxed. 

Well, as much as she could afford to anyway; she was still, after all, the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company in the middle of an image crisis. But satisfied for the moment, Lena promptly filed the events away in the folds of her memory distinctly set aside for irritating occupational hazards and the last names of one night stands.

That is… until one fateful afternoon when Lena was at such a caffeine deficit that she stopped by the employee break room, instead of just waiting for the overpriced espresso still en route.

There was no one about. Her employees always seemed to have enough tact to make themselves scarce in her presence. It was probably the _clack! clack!_ of her purposeful stride that tipped them off. But no matter; she preferred it this way anyhow.

Lena threw a cursory, judgmental glance about her as she glided over to the cabinets. She was still mentally wording her next set of instructions for Jess—this time on the importance of keeping  _all_ break rooms neat and tidy—so when the cabinet door came right off its hinges in Lena’s hand, she was surprised to say the least. 

And in pain. 

“ _F—”_ Lena hissed between her teeth as she limped off in a small, tight circle. As if that would somehow alleviate the sharp pain of a wooden corner smashing into her instep. “Who the…”

She came to an abrupt stop as a small slip of paper fluttered to the floor. Her red-bottomed Louboutins' clacking considerably more subdued, Lena stepped gingerly over to the pink post-it note.  She squinted down at it, refusing to bend over even the slightest.

 

_I’m so sorry about this cabinet door! I wasn’t paying attention and I guess I really don’t know my own strength sometimes. I’ve already called a friend of mine who’s really handy with these sorts of things and he’ll be down here ASAP. Whatever you do, PLEASE DO NOT PUT A WORK ORDER IN!_

_After that last memo from Ms. Luthor, I think we can all agree that it'd be better to keep this on the down-low for the sake of everyone’s jobs!_

_Once again, SO SORRY!_

_I promise to make this all up to you, everyone!_

_xoxoxox  
❤️️❤️️❤️️❤️️_

_KD_

 

Lips curling in distaste, Lena whipped out her phone, already speed-dialing her assistant. 

“Ms. Luthor?” Jess sounded panicked. “I just got an update from Gio and he says he just got to the lobby, so your coffee will be at your office any—”

“Fine, fine,” Lena said brusquely, eyes still trained on the loopy cursive against the vibrant pink. “Can you see how many employees we have with the initials K.D. here at L Corp?”

“I… I don’t think that’s—”

Lena’s grip tightened on her phone. “Jess. I don’t _pay_ you to think. I pay you to do exactly as I say and if that’s outside of your skill set, perhaps it’s time to take another look at your contract.” An audible gulp from the other end. “K. D.”

“Right away, Ms. Luthor,” came Jess’s squeaky reply, followed by the sounds of frenzied typing. “We currently employ 21 people with the initials K.D. Would you like a list forwarded to your inbox?” 

Lena tapped her injured foot on the note as she mulled it over. “Fine,” she finally said. “Any essentials?”

“Um…” More typing. “Two lawyers, six mechanical engineers, a finance consul—”

“All right then,” Lena sighed, waving her hand at no one in particular. “How out of the question would it be to fire everyone on that list?”

The resulting series of stuttered vowels from the other end almost made Lena laugh. “I-I-I… I would say, well, after the last bout of, um, firing, the board would most likely find it at least a little  _questionable_ and—”

“Never mind then,” Lena said. She glared down at the tiny hearts that were definitely beaming up at her in mockery. “That espresso better still be hot by the time it gets on my desk.”

“Yes, Ms. Luthor.”

Lena hummed, her green eyes raking over the break room, already devising her next plan of action. “And Jess?”

“Yes, Ms. Luthor?” 

“Give yourself a 20% raise.”

“Yes, Ms. Luthor,” Jess said, sounding noticeably relieved. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Lena said. She then noticed a bit of spare paper scattered across a nearby counter. That would do. “I’ll see you soon.”

Lena hung up her phone and stepped around the fallen cabinet door. She worried her bottom lip as she carefully considered her next words, fingers drumming softly on the paper. Then retrieving a Cross pen from her inner pocket, Lena quickly drafted a short, yet scathing message in her neat hand. 

She folded the paper in half and dropped it onto the cabinet door on her way out.

The next day when Lena strode into that same break room, she stopped in her tracks, eyebrow quirking in surprise. All traces of crumbs were swept from the ground. The chairs and tables neatly straightened out. Even the windows appeared to be polished clean.

And the cabinet door was now off the ground, fitted back into its place, good as new.

With a post-it note stuck to the handle. 

As a woman of very few curiosities, Lena was never really in the position nor habit of indulging them. But even she couldn't stop herself from walking over to that note.

 

_Hey L!_

_You’re totally right about me being inconsiderate with the cabinet door. I didn’t even think about how it could hurt anyone trying to use it! I hope your foot’s feeling better today ):_

_Also, I wasn’t really sure if you were addressing me or just everyone in general, but I took the liberty of tidying up the break room like you suggested! I guess my only question would be why someone so insistent on being neat and orderly would leave the broken door where it was! In the middle of the floor where anyone could trip on it!_

_But in all seriousness, no hard feelings! I know that wasn’t your intention, and I hope you understand that hurting you was in no way my intention either! :D_

_Hope we can be work buddies someday!_

_xoxox  
_ _❤️️❤️️❤️️❤️️_

_KD_

_P.S. Look at this handiwork! You can barely tell that it was broken in the first place! Isn’t my friend great? :) :) :)_

 

Lena wasn’t sure if her eyes were burning from the excessive smilies or the cheeriness practically radiating off the pink paper. Either way, she crumpled the note in her fist and scribbled out aquick reply on another spare piece of paper. Which she had to search through a couple of drawers for, thanks to the mysterious cleaner (and vandal).

It was only when she got back to her office that Lena noticed the wadded post-it still clenched in her hand. She tossed it into her wastebasket without a second thought. 

The following day, Lena paused on her way past the break room. She reminded herself that she had no use for any frivolous distractions today. There was a fundraiser to attend in less than six hours, hosted by one of her potential future business liaisons and she really needed to make a striking (never _nice,_ of course) impression. Thus, any and all diversions would be most unwelcome today of all days.

Lena was still telling herself that as she waltzed through the doorway. Her eyes immediately darted over to the cabinets, but not a single pink square in sight. The dissatisfaction settling deep in Lena’s stomach felt extremely inappropriate. 

Reasoning that it was better this way and at least the matter was now put to rest, Lena turned on her heel and was about to march right back out when a flash of blue caught her eye. 

A post-it note stuck to the refrigerator. 

 

_Dear L,_

_Of course I’d care if Ms. Luthor were to fire all of us. But why would she when the accident (and YES it WAS an accident!) in question has already been fixed? And no one even told her about it anyway! At least, I don’t think anyone did. If someone had, we’d already be packing our things probably... :/_

_I'll tell you what, dearest L, if it ever comes down to it, I’ll take 200% of the responsibility and make sure I’m the only one who gets in trouble for it, deal? :) But in the meantime, may I interest you in a bribe? _

_Check in the freezer ;D_

_KD_

 

Lena blinked to herself a couple of times before hesitantly opening the freezer. Inside, sat a brand-new pint of neapolitan ice cream with another post-it reading: 

 

_For L ❤️️_

 

She stared at the container, more taken aback than she’d ever admit to herself or anyone else. Shaking her head, Lena slammed the freezer door, scribbled a quick reply right underneath the original message, and left the room.

That night, the fundraiser was very much the calculated success Lena had intended it to be. She managed to draft a contract securing a mutually beneficial arrangement between L Corp and a well-regarded distributor of commercial-grade security systems. Months of hard work and late-night hours were finally paying off as this newfound relationship led from one professional engagement to the next, which of course only resulted in even _more_  hard work and late-night hours.

Several days had passed before it occurred to Lena that she hadn’t been back to check in on her mysterious vandal/pen pal. 

The break room was unsurprisingly empty and dark. It was already after 10pm and most of her employees had long since gone home for the day, not beholden to the same late hours Lena set for herself. 

She didn’t bother hitting the lights as she walked in, making her way straight to the refrigerator. 

There was no note, which was to be expected. It had been more than a week, after all. 

Even the ice cream was gone.

Against her better judgement and all reason, Lena rooted through the drawers for a piece of paper but to no avail. She briefly toyed with the idea of retrieving a notepad from her office, but ultimately decided against it. Because actually making an effort would somehow make the situation at hand even more unseemly than it already was.

Even worse, Lena couldn't articulate _why_ she even cared so much, and that bothered her.  Lena was in the habit of knowing. It's what she did. It's what she's  _supposed_ to do.

In a last ditch effort, Lena threw open the cabinet door —the very same one that had sparked this whole ordeal in the first place. 

Not a scrap of paper in sight. 

But there _was_ a set of multi-colored post-it notes tucked away in the far corner. Lena cautiously slid the stack of post-its towards her and saw a familiar loopy handwriting dancing across the very top sheet.

 

_L,_

_Ah! I definitely should have asked before buying you the ice cream! I'm so sorry! It’s just my favorite food, so I forget that not everyone loves it as much as me :D_

_But here’s a little something you might need! :)_

_xoxox_

_KD_

 

It made sense to keep the post-it notes.  Office supplies—no matter what shape or cutesy pastel color—would always be useful and even Lena could admit that much. 

It made significantly less sense to stick that top post-it note on her otherwise immaculate white desk. But Lena didn’t question it and by transitive property no one else did either. 

About a week after receiving the practical token of appreciation, Lena was running behind schedule. A phone conference with a representative of an aspiring new tech company in Japan had started much later than planned. Damn time difference. 

As she burst through the front doors, Lena caught sight of the far elevator doors beginning to close. “Wait, hold the door!” she called out, quickening her pace. The lone individual in the elevator rushed to comply, thrusting their arms out to catch the doors. 

Hurriedly catching her breath, Lena recomposed herself as she entered the elevator. “Thank you,” she said curtly to the stranger, who only nodded and smiled in return. 

Then, “Which floor?” 

Lena looked up from her blackberry with a frown. “Pardon?”

“Which floor?” repeated the stranger, pointing eagerly at the buttons. “Unless you’re _also_ going to the 23rd floor because what a coinkydink that would be, huh?” 

Everything caught Lena off guard. 

The bright tone. The good-natured smile. But especially the utter lack of recognition. 

Even outside of National City, Lena was accustomed to absolutely everyone knowing and even fearing her, thanks to her family’s notoriety. Did she somehow stumble upon the _one_ person in this godforsaken city who didn’t recognize her face?

“Top floor,” Lena finally said.

“Got it!” The stranger chirped, hitting the button. “Top floor, huh? You must be really important around here!”

“You could say that,” Lena said slowly. She put down her phone in favor of studying her bubbly company more carefully. 

The woman in question was bouncing on the balls of her feet, broad grin seemingly a permanent fixture on her face. She had on a simple pale blue shirt with a navy cardigan thrown on top, only just making it onto the business side of business casual. 

Also, she clearly had _no_ idea who she was riding the elevator with.

“I usually take the stairs,” the stranger confided in Lena, leaning in though her volume never dropped. “But elevators are nice too because you never know who you’re going to bump into, right?”

“Apparently,” Lena murmured, more to herself than not. “Why take the stairs at all then?" She gestured aimlessly as the stranger. "Considering your figure, you can’t be in want of any exercise.”

A burst of giggles fell out of the stranger’s mouth and, if Lena wasn’t mistaken, a slight pink was starting to bloom across her face. “My _figure?_ Wow, I haven't reall—” But then with a sickening crunch, the handrail the flustered woman was leaning on detached itself from the wall.

Lena felt her jaw drop. But her startled reaction could in no way compare to the wide blue saucers gaping back at her. 

“Oh no! Oh no, no, no, no, no!” The stranger fell to her knees, attempting to shove the metal bars back in place, but the damage was done. She shot a wild look over her shoulder. _“Please don’t tell Ms. Luthor!”_

Lena just stared. 

“I can fix this! Well, not _me_ per se, but I know a friend who’s really handy with these things!"

With a _ding,_ the elevator doors opened to reveal the 23rd floor and the woman scrambled out, phone already in hand. 

“See? I’m calling him already! And I’ll be right back! Well, to the elevator anyway. Obviously, you need it— _Winn? Hey! Hold on—_ uh, you need it to get to your floor! But I’ll be right back! I’ll even— _Wait, hang on, Winn! I’m trying to—”_ She covered her phone with a hand as the elevator doors began to hiss shut. _“I’m-going-to-leave-a-note-explaining-everything-please-don’t-tell-Ms-Luthor!”_

Still frozen in place, Lena stared dumbfounded at the closed doors, barely registering the distant hum of the elevator climbing several more floors. 

In her experience, Lena found that solid explanations were supposed to remain solid. Not lead to a series of even _more_ pressing curiosities. And yet here she was. In the wake of vanilla perfume and a twisted heap of steel resting on the elevator floor, all courtesy of one bespectacled young woman with an apparent fondness for in-person smiles as much as hand-drawn smilies.

Maybe it was high time for Lena to start investing in her curiosities after all.

She would start by getting Jess to compile a photo roster of everyone stationed at the 23rd floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be from Kara's POV.
> 
> Please let me know if you have any thoughts, questions, or complaints! ❤️️
> 
> Either here or on tumblr @WhyThinkTooMuch!


End file.
